


Path of the Exiled: The Power of Two

by sgatalon



Series: The Power of Two AU [2]
Category: Code Geass
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Twins, Brother Feels, Canon Timeline, F/M, Family Feels, Knightmare Porn, No Twincest, OTP Feels, Sorry Not Sorry, Teen Romance, There will be divergence, all the feels really, at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-10-13 03:23:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgatalon/pseuds/sgatalon
Summary: Lelouch vi Britannia is a highly intelligent boy. Few within the royal family can match his mind for strategy and politics- except his twin sister, Victoire. Between the two of them, can they build an army to tear down the Britannian tyranny their father has created? Or are they doomed to fall victim to petty politics and the war-mongering of their estranged siblings?





	1. Milestones

_December 5 th, 1999_

 

                C.C. washed her hands, exhaling a deeply held breath and enjoying a moment of personal peace after a long ten hours.  That was by far one of the most harrowing births she had been midwife to.  Marianne had done admirably, working through her labor pains to deliver a healthy set of twins—a boy and a girl.  The newborns were currently gurgling helplessly, as babies do, as their mother tried to situate them for their first feeding; it didn’t sound to be going very smoothly.

“Would you like some assistance?” C.C. asked as she turned to survey the scene.  Laying in a large bed with fresh, white sheets was a tired Marianne, her long black hair falling out of its pins, making her look quite the disheveled mess.  She was trying to hold a babe in each arm, while simultaneously using her hands to guide her children to their source of breastmilk.

“No!  I’ve… almost got this…” her voice was sluggish and strained, but her face was determined, so C.C. decided to leave her to her devices.

“As you wish.  I need a word with your husband, but I will be right outside should you change your mind.”  With a cheeky grin, she turned swiftly and left the room, Marianne cursing softly at the children behind her.

Stepping into the hall, C.C. immediately saw Charles pacing.  The 98th Emperor of Britannia rarely worried over people, especially his consorts, but Marianne had always been special to him.  She watched the man, savoring the not-quite-desperate expression on his face.  It had been far too long since she’d seen it.  Finally, he took notice of her presence.

“C.C.  How did it go?”  C.C. again grinned at the man in her way, eliciting a frown.  “Well?”

“It was fine… eventually.  If it had been anyone else as her midwife, I’m sure your Empress would have knocked them out.”

Charles laughed, his deep voice filling the hall.  “You may be right about that!  So… about my child.  It’s healthy?”

“Yes, _they_ are.”

The Emperor paused.  “So it was twins?”

C.C. nodded, but said nothing else.  A frown again etched itself across Charles’ face.

“And?  Boys?  Girls?”

“Hm… I can’t quite remember…”

Charles growled, finally noticing that the woman was blocking the door to his consort and newborn children, and pulled an unwieldy electronic device from his pocket.  After tapping a few buttons on it, he looked up, glaring at the green-haired witch before him.  “There.  I’ve sent for your payment.  So?  The children?”

“Ah, yes.  It’s all coming back to me.”  C.C looked up, a contented expression on her face as she imagined how wonderful the fifty pizzas Charles had promised her would taste.  “Marianne delivered twins.  A boy and a girl.  The boy is older by nearly fifteen minutes.”  She paused again, watching the frown deepen on the Emperor’s face.  If his face soured any more, it would get stuck like that.  “They are both quite healthy, as is their mother.  My impression of them… Hm.”  She tapped her chin with a delicate finger, trying to figure her wording.

“Spit it out already, you devil-woman!”

C.C. flashed a grin at the annoyed man.  “My, so impatient!  I only was thinking.  The girl is… interesting.  I see potential, of course.  Quite a bit of it, in fact.  However… The boy.  He is…”

Charles waited longer for her to continue before interrupting.  “Stop wasting my time.  What about this boy of mine?”

Amber eyes, fiery and sincere, met the Emperor’s hardened violet orbs.  “His potential vastly surpasses even your own.”

A chuckle.  Then, a booming, throaty cackle that left the halls ringing.  “Yes!  Yes, they are my children, after all!  I will keep a very close eye on them, indeed.”  He paused, taking a moment to compose himself and hide his smile.  “Now… What did you say their names were?”

“Lelouch vi Britannia and Victoire vi Britannia, Eleventh Prince and Third Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire.”

 

* * *

_October 25, 2008_

 

                “No, no, no.  I specifically said the roses should be _pink_ , not _yellow._ ”  Odysseus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as a servant shuffled nervously in front of him.  “Well, make do.  Find what pink flowers you can and garnish each arrangement.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the servant replied meekly, dipping a quick curtsy before hurrying off to do as the Crown Prince commanded.

Odysseus eu Britannia turned around, sweeping his hair back from his forehead with a careless hand.  While he didn’t care for state-sanctioned parties and balls, he did enjoy the birthday celebrations for his siblings—especially the girls.  There was something about soft pastel colors that always put him in a wonderful mood.

“Brother, are you okay?”

The man looked up at the small voice before him.  “Ah, Victoire.  Yes, I’m fine.  It’s just that arranging these kinds of big parties can be a bit tiring, that’s all.”  He smiled brightly at the eight-year-old, noting her navy-blue blouse and black slacks and the dark brown hair that curled loosely around her shoulders.  He knelt down so he could be level with her violet eyes.  “So, pretty girl.  When are you planning on changing into the dress your big brother bought for you, hm?  Don’t you want to match with all your sisters?”

Victoire glanced away, a concerned line forming between her brows.  She had secretly hoped Odysseus wouldn’t bring up the matter of the dress.  It was a horrible rag, really, all white with pink silk bunched into little roses, strategically placed for maximum embarrassment.  It even had layers upon layers of tulle batting underneath the skirt to make it ridiculously full and puffy.

“Well, Brother…”  She fought with herself a moment, debating whether or not to be brutally honest.  In the end, she decided it was best not to upset the Crown Prince.  “I have it set aside in my room.  I was planning to wear pants, for when we take the festivities outside.”

“Oh, I see.”  Odysseus frowned a bit.  “Please reconsider, won’t you?  I had the dresses made for just this occasion, and it would make dear Nunnally so very happy.”

Victoire cringed internally.  Odysseus took an unnatural pleasure in playing dress-up with all his younger sisters, and was not afraid to play the guilt card.  “I… will give it some more thought, Brother.

“Thank you.”  The man smiled brightly and laid a warm, gloved hand on the girl’s head for a moment before straightening.  “Now, then.  Where is that twin of yours?”

Stoically, the girl pointed to her left.  “Last I saw, Lelouch was out on the terrace, making Clovis cry over a game of chess.”

Odysseus laughed nervously.  “Ah, yes… That does sound like them.  Well, you run along and get changed.  I’ll make sure Clovis is presentable for the party.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want his mascara running all over the place.”

“Victoire!  How unbecoming.  Clovis doesn’t wear mascara.”  He paused when the girl raised a delicate eyebrow at him.  “…Probably.”

The girl grinned cattily and ran off in the direction he assumed her room was in.  He watched her go for a moment, then spun and walked quickly in the direction she had pointed.  His footsteps echoed throughout the palace until he turned once onto the open stone terrace.  Flowers adorned even the pillars and railings outside, although as stated earlier, Odysseus would have been far happier if the arrangements were _pink_ as he’d originally requested.  He glanced around, ignoring the annoyingly yellow floral décor, until he spotted the two boys at a table, a chess board and pieces spread before them.  The older Clovis sat with his back to him, while he could see young Lelouch calmly manipulating pieces on the table.  _Oh, dear,_ Odysseus thought to himself.  _I’ll have to put a stop to the thrashing after all._

He cleared his throat as he approached.  Clovis turned and spotted him, breaking into a wide smile.  “Odysseus!  Look, Lelouch has been showing me the masterful maneuver he just used to win!”  He gestured at the pieces before them, Lelouch stopping his movements as Clovis’ attention strayed.

“Oh, has he?”  The older man seemed surprised and leaned over the board.  “Well, that’s very big of both of you.  Lelouch, for teaching your rival, and Clovis, for learning from your mistakes.”  He grinned at both, patting each on the shoulder.  Clovis returned the smile quickly and bent to study the placement of the pieces again.  Lelouch looked up at Odysseus, an inquisitive expression on his face.

“Would you like me to teach you, too?”

“Oh, no!  I’m not a chess player of any caliber.”  He chuckled and gently patted the boy’s shoulder before straightening and linking his hands behind his back.  “Should I change my mind, however, you will be the first to know, and I shall appoint you my official chess master.”

“Please consider it.  I assure you, my fee is quite reasonable.”

“It’s true!  Much less than any other so-called master, and Lelouch is far more skilled than they are.”

“Er…”  Odysseus looked between the smiling, sincere faces of his younger brothers, unsure of what to make of the exchange.  He coughed awkwardly into his gloved hand and changed the subject.  “Yes.  Well.  We should be beginning the festivities shortly.  Lelouch, shouldn’t you change to match your sister?”

The boy looked down at the table, tapping a rook lightly against the chess board as he struggled with himself.  Finally he inhaled deeply and nodded at Odysseus.  “Victoire and I won’t be long.  You both go ahead.”  With that, the boy ran off in much the same manner his twin had.  Odysseus shook his head with a smile; children were so amusing at that age.  Cute, even.  He turned to Clovis, gesturing grandly towards the inside of Aries Palace.

“Shall we?”

Clovis sighed, quickly replacing the chess pieces before standing.  “Yes, I suppose so.  I had wanted to try out some of those moves on Lelouch, but it _is_ Nunnally’s day, after all.”

…

Lelouch knocked lightly on the imposing wood of his twin’s door.  The sound echoed ominously in the quiet hall; all the servants and guests were converging in the ballroom as the beginning of Nunnally’s party neared.  There was a long pause before a meek, “Yes?”

“Are you decent?”  He didn’t have to declare himself.  He knew Victoire would know it was him from his knock alone.

“Yes.”

Lelouch pushed the door open, wondering why his sister sounded so dejected.  As his eyes fell upon her, he quickly realized why.  He turned to close the door, trying to compose himself before saying anything.

“Stop laughing!”  Caught already.

“I didn’t.  But now that you mention it…”  The young boy turned, letting loose a quick bout of giggles as he surveyed his sister more carefully.  “Laughter _does_ seem an appropriate response.”

Victoire crossed her arms over the wide pink sash at her ribcage, her cheeks coloring to match.  She even had a pink ribbon in her hair, tying her curls back from her face.  His sister had shown Lelouch the dress before, when she had first gotten it from Odysseus, but this was the first time he had seen it on her.  The dress was ornate and made of fine materials, to be sure, but the effect… With all the pink silk flowers at the neckline, combined with the puffed shoulders and wide sleeves gathered in at the wrists, it made her look like a pastry.  He imagined that with their other sisters wearing matching dresses, they would look like cream puffs in a box, all sitting together.  His smile widened as he fought back his guffaws.

“Oh, stuff it.  You _do_ realize that our brother was so generous as to commission clothes for _you_ as well, brother dear?”  Victoire inspected her fingernails, her initial embarrassment calming as she sought to drag Lelouch under the bus with her.

“Perhaps, but unlike you, I won’t stand out if I choose to dress sensibly.”

“If Odysseus can guilt even me into wearing such a monstrosity, I know it won’t be a challenge to goad you into it.”

“Try me, sister.”

Victoire immediately struck a dramatic pose, her hand sweeping up to her forehead in a swoon.  “Oh, Lelouch, why didn’t you don the special outfit I had made only for you?  It’s a one-of-a-kind piece, to match all your adorable sisters—especially Victoire.  Oh, how left out she must feel!  You two always dress alike, how could you forsake her?  And dear Nunnally… On her birthday!  Such a simple thing, and you couldn’t even manage it!  Her important party, ruined—”

“Alright, alright.”  A deep frown was carved into the boy’s face.  “Stop hamming it up already, I was going to change, anyway.  You may be right about Odysseus making a big deal about this, but I’ll put the stupid clothes on if you’ll just _shut up_ already.”

Victoire dropped her act and flashed a catty grin at her twin.  “That’s what I thought.  Now hurry up, or we’ll be late.”  The boy scowled at her and fled her room, stalking off to do as he promised.  Alone once again, Victoire chanced a look in the mirror and cringed.  Yes, it was as bad as she thought it was.  She took a deep breath and smiled, thinking to herself, _It’s only a few more hours.  And I won’t be suffering alone._   The small comfort of that last thought brought genuine amusement to her eyes as she turned away from her reflection, going to meet her brother outside his room.  After long minutes, the door finally cracked open.

“…Must I?”  His voice was small and reluctant.  Victoire hid a grin behind a gloved hand.

“You must,” she confirmed.  She could hear Lelouch sigh once, long and drawn out, before exiting his chambers.  It was almost worse than her dress.  Almost.

The suit Odysseus had commissioned was indeed a match, but rather than being white like Victoire’s dress, the pants and jacket were the same pastel pink as the accent flowers.  A white silk flower and cummerbund offset the nauseating color, but the Black Prince’s reputation was thoroughly destroyed as soon as one’s eye caught the white lace of his cravat.  Immediately and resoundingly, Victoire began to laugh, the sound echoing insistently in Lelouch’s ears as his cheeks colored.

“I knew you were the evil twin.”

Victoire stifled herself to a mere giggle and, curling her hand up to her face thoughtfully, drawled, “Oh, and I did try so terribly hard to hide it.”

Lelouch frowned, adjusting the lace around his neck and smoothing his clothes, trying to gain some composure.  As terrible as the color was, at least it was comfortable, which was more than his sister could say.  They were similar enough in height and build that they had switched places more than a few times, and Lelouch never cared for the fit of his sister’s dresses.  A small part of him was glad that his outfit was as horrendous as his sister’s; there was no way she would ask to trade places with him today.

“So, are you going to escort me to the party?”  Victoire looked him over and raised a mischievous eyebrow.  “Or should I be escorting you, Princess?”

Lelouch grumbled and abruptly stuck out his elbow for her to take.  “I would suggest not pushing it, or I swear I’ll do my very best to get everyone to start calling you the Cupcake Princess.”

Victoire paled and gingerly took the offered arm.  Lelouch knew better than she where to strike to inflict the most damage, but he pulled his punches so often that it was easy to forget.  Even worse was that he was resourceful enough to make that promise viable.  “Right… Never mention that terrible nickname again, and let’s just get through Nunnally’s party together, okay?  No funny business.”

“Deal.”  Both twins nodded and proceeded as if they had an entirely normal relationship that wasn’t based off of mutual blackmail.

…

“…Happy birthday to you!”

The party-goers clapped as Nunnally, who had turned five years old just that day, stood on a chair and leaned over to blow out the candles on her cake.  She gave a big toothy smile to her older siblings, Lelouch and Victoire, who had places at each of her sides and clapped the loudest at her successful wish.

“This is the best day ever!” she declared, throwing her arms above her head as a servant began to slice and portion the cake.

“Not yet, it’s not!” Victoire said, reaching to tickle the girl’s stomach.  Nunnally shrieked and covered herself from more tickles.

“Why not?” she asked through her smile.

“Because,” Lelouch began, taking a plate of cake from the servant to give to the birthday girl, “you haven’t even opened your gifts yet.”

“Ah!  That’s right!”  The girl went wide-eyed at the realization and slid off her chair so she could get a closer look at the stack of brightly colored boxes stacked high on (and all around) a corner table.  The girl forked a piece of cake into her mouth and asked, “Where should I start?”

“Well—”

“Open _my_ gift first,” Cornelia insisted, cutting Odysseus off with a frown.  She quickly changed gears and gave the five-year-old a kind smile, then strode to the pile of gifts, searching for a moment until she found her target.  She lifted it from the stack and presented it before her younger half-sister.  “Here.  I think you’ll enjoy this.”

“Oh, thank you, Cornelia!”  Marianne came forward to hold her daughter’s cake so she could accept her present.  Nunnally looked at the object in her hands, a heavy rectangle almost the size of her head.  The gift wrap was red with a slight sheen to it, so it sparkled in the light.  It was almost a shame to open it… but Nunnally tore at the wrappings anyway.  She tossed the useless paper to the side, looking at Cornelia’s gift.  “P-Pride and P-Prej—Preed—”

“ _Pride and Prejudice_ , by Jane Austen _._   An essential read for any young girl of wit.”  Cornelia looked like she was enjoying herself, as she gave a quick speech about the importance of female literacy.  Unbeknownst to her, Victoire mouthed, word for word, the same speech in the corner of her twin’s eye.  She even mimed their big sister’s gestures, albeit while rolling her eyes.  Lelouch’s mouth twitched, and he covered his chin with his hand to make it seem as though he was considering Cornelia’s words instead of laughing at his twin’s mimicry.

Nunnally gave her older sister a polite smile.  “Thank you very much!  I’ll try to read this when I go to bed tonight.”  She brought the book over to an empty table that was intended for opened gifts.  Cornelia seemed to glow with pride and happiness; she didn’t realize that her gift would become buried under all the others Nunnally had yet to open.  The five-year-old clapped her hands together.  “Okay, whose do I open next?”

“Here, Nunnally.”  Odysseus had been standing by the stack of gifts, not to be cut off again.  “I know you’ll like this.”  He handed her an even bigger gift that was almost as tall as she was.

“Ooh… Thank you, Odie!”  The man smiled with gusto; he enjoyed the nickname the little girl had given him.

“Go, on, tear it open!”

Nunnally did so.  She had a bit of trouble with the white ribbon holding it all in place, but managed to tear the pink polka dotted paper off in no time.  She held a box in her hands, and placed it on the floor to pry the lid off.

“Oh… Odie, thank you so much!”  Her voice was reverent as she touched the soft fabric of the dress that was inside.  It was a light purple that matched her eyes with darker ribbons and embroidery throughout the bodice.

“You’re welcome, Princess.”  Odysseus gave a gallant bow as Cornelia rolled her eyes.  Odysseus seemed content to let her be annoyed.  “Now, whose gift would you like next?”

“Hmm…”  Nunnally replaced the lid of the box, deep in thought.  Lelouch picked the dress up and set it aside as Victoire trotted over to the table.

“How about this one, Nunnally?”  She held up an unusually generic box with a large pink ribbon at the top.

“Okay!”

It took over an hour for the small girl to chip her way through the large amount of gifts she had been given, mostly because she always stopped to thank the gift-giver both before _and_ after she opened their present.  Among the things she received were: a landscape painting of her favorite garden from Clovis, a pair of opal earrings from her mother, a gold locket from the Emperor, a new set of hair ribbons from Euphemia, and a teddy bear as tall as Nunnally herself from Schneizel el Britannia (although he had not attended the party and sent the gift as a courtesy).  Finally, the table was empty and each guest had eaten their fill of birthday cake.

Nunnally looked all around the empty space where her gifts had been, and frowned.  “Isn’t there more?”

“What?  Nunnally, darling, you got so many wonderful gifts already.  Why do you need more?”  Marianne frowned as she laid a gentle hand on her daughter’s head.

“Oh, no, it’s not that.  It’s just…”  Nunnally looked at her full-blooded siblings sadly.  “I didn’t get anything from Lelouch and Victoire.”

Lelouch smiled at his sister.  “Oh, we didn’t forget about you, Nunnally.  It’s just—”                                        

“Our present isn’t so ordinary as to go on a table,” Victoire finished, her grin matching her twin’s.

“What did you two do?”  The smile in Marianne’s voice didn’t speak of any anger; quite the opposite, in fact.

“We’ll have to go outside for a bit,” Lelouch said.

“But I promise, it’s well worth the trip!”  Victoire was already reaching for Nunnally’s hand.  The girl was smiling ear to ear, practically jumping up and down.

“Oh, Mother, let’s hurry!  Please!”

“Alright.  It’s a good thing for you two that we had already planned to take the party outdoors.”

The children led the way outside, Nunnally tugging the twins’ hands as she tried to guess what her present was, Marianne trailing behind them with the rest of the guests behind her.  Lelouch and Victoire fought smiles as she kept spouting off incorrect guesses.

“Um… Is it a garden?”

“Nunnally, we already have a lot of gardens.”

“But it could be a garden just for me!”

“No, it’s not a garden.”

“How about—”

“How about you stop guessing and just wait until we get there?”

The small girl huffed, but held her tongue, her eyes bright and eager as they exited the palace out of a side gate.  The wind blew strong and cool as the group approached a lush, green pasture surrounded with a sturdy white fence.  A tiered canopy had been set up, the canvas printed with the crest of House vi Britannia.  Tables and chairs had already been placed underneath, a few servants ready with pitchers of hot cider to serve to the guests who quickly ducked into the protection from the fall breeze.  A few guests strayed closer to the pasture, though, following the twins along with Nunnally.  Lelouch and Victoire each stepped onto the first rung of the fence, pulling themselves up so they could look around the field.  Odysseus cringed a little, wanting to speak up in an effort to preserve their clothes from the dirty outdoors, but slumped a bit and let out a defeated sigh instead as Euphemia tripped over her skirt, marring the pristine fabric with green stains.

It took a few long moments of searching, but Lelouch smiled first, pointing in one direction as he turned to sit on the nearest post.  Victoire smiled in turn as she, too, spotted their target.  “See over there?” Lelouch asked as he directed Nunnally’s vision.

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you see?”

“Umm… I see…” Nunnally squinted, sticking her head between the fence rungs as she rattled off the names of her family’s personal steeds.  “Miracle, Shadow, and Invincible.”  The girl paused, confusion furrowing her brows.  “Big brother, if your horse is called Invincible, then why can you still see it?”

“Invincible is—Ah, never mind.  What _else_ do you see?”

The little girl squinted harder.  “Is that—Is that another horse?” she asked, excitement mounting precariously in her voice.

“It might be.”  Victoire had a wide grin on her face.

“Think a bit smaller, though,” Lelouch added.

Nunnally gasped.  “Is it a pony?!”

The twins nodded, smiling widely as Nunnally threw her arms in the air, spinning in circles.  “A PONY, A PONY!” she shouted.  “MY VERY OWN PONY!”  Abruptly, she stopped and began spouting questions as fast as she could think them, her voice rising with each new inquiry.  “What’s its name?  Is it a girl pony?!  How old is she!?!”

“Slow down, darling,” Marianne laughed, placing her hands on Nunnally’s shoulders as she knelt beside her youngest child.  “I’m sure your siblings have explanations.  For everything?”  She quirked a brow at the troublemakers, who seemed determined not to meet her eyes.

“She’s a girl pony,” Victoire affirmed.

“And she’s five years old, the same age as you, Nunnally.”  Lelouch stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels as he watched the pasture over his shoulder.

“We thought you might like to name her, though,” Victoire finished, reaching for Nunnally’s hand.  “Do you want to go meet her first?”

“YES!  I mean…”  Nunnally dipped her head meekly, realizing that she was not behaving in a seemly manner for a princess of Britannia, and delicately grasped her sister’s hand.  “I would very much like to meet her.  Thank you, Sister.”

Victoire laughed at the attempt at lady-like manners.  “Come here.  She’s been trained well, so all you have to do…”  She and Lelouch approached the pasture again, each raising two fingers to the corners of their mouths and unleashing ear-splitting whistles.  Nunnally attempted to copy them and only succeeded in blowing a raspberry.

“Don’t worry, Nunnally, we’ll teach you,” Lelouch assured her as four large animals approached the fence where the humans awaited them.

Miracle was Marianne’s mare, a proud palomino whose coat shone like liquid honey in the sunlight. Lelouch’s Invincible was a pure-black stallion with a white nose and quick temper, and Shadow, Victoire’s mild-mannered gelding, was a lovely blue roan.  The longer-legged beasts arrived first, begging treats from the twins as a bay-colored pony shyly trailed behind.  She had a white star on her forehead, and a purple bow was affixed to her halter.  Nunnally inhaled sharply as Lelouch pulled a handful of sugar cubes out of his pocket.

“Go introduce yourself,” he said, filling the five-year-old’s hands with treats.  The girl nodded vigorously, practically hopping to the fence and ducking the warm noses of the horses as they reached their necks through the fence in search of sugary snacks.

“Leave Nunnally alone, Shadow,” Victoire chided, accepting a sugar cube from her twin and immediately offering it to her steed.  Obligingly, the gelding left the group of greedy equines and trotted over to his mistress, pushing Miracle out of the way so he could nibble the cube from Victoire’s hand.

Lelouch was having a harder time getting Invincible’s attention, as the stubborn horse lipped Nunnally’s dress.  Eventually, the boy stopped trying to rely on treats, instead pushing the stallion out of the way despite his snorts of protest.  Now only Miracle was bothering the small girl, but there was enough space between her and Shadow for the cute pony to squeeze in.  Timidly, Nunnally held her hands up, palms flat with a sugar cube centered on each one.  Miracle got her treat and promptly trotted off, flicking her tail at the others as she disengaged from the battle for attention.  No longer being crowded out, Nunnally’s new pony delicately sniffed the sugar in the girl’s hand, affixing a dewy brown eye on the child.  Any nervousness the animal had melted away at Nunnally’s earnest expression, and she lapped up the treat and butted her head against Nunnally’s palm.

The girl giggled.  “She’s really soft!” she exclaimed, running her hands along the pony’s nose.

Victoire demurely kept her horse occupied with gentle pats on his forehead.  “Of course she is!  So?  Do you know what you’re going to name her?”

“Hmm…” Nunnally scrunched her face up, deep in thought as she and her pony sized each other up.  “I think… How about Sugar?  Since it’s the first present I gave her?”

“That sounds—Ung!  Invincible, stop that!”  Lelouch reacted just in time as the stallion snapped his teeth where the boy’s fingers had been just a moment ago.  The horse snorted at him, stomping his front hoof and switching his tail.  Lelouch glared back at his mount.  “Sugar sounds perfect, Nunnally,” he finished, his voice tight with annoyance at Invincible.

“Especially since she’s so much sweeter than grumpy old Invincible, there,” Victoire added, concealing a cheeky grin behind one hand.

Lelouch frowned at his twin, but said nothing more; he knew she was right, even if Invincible was his favorite horse.

“Sugar!  We’re going to be best friends!”  Nunnally gave the pony a big hug, laughing as she said, “This really _is_ the best day ever!”

 

* * *

_December XX, 2009_

 

                The twins were unsure if Christmas had passed or not, but truly, it didn’t matter.  It felt as if they would never be able to celebrate another holiday again.  How could they?  Their beloved mother, only thirty years old, had been gunned down along with their younger sister, in the safety of Aries Palace, no less.  They had already held a funeral for their mother, but they couldn’t remember how many days ago it had been; only that it hadn’t felt real.  Members of the royal family and court had made appearances, of course, but their faces all blended together in veils and silks of black, ominously looming over the twins like shadows.  They had been glad when it was over.

Nunnally was still in the ICU, in a deep coma as the doctors tried to fix all the hurt that had been inflicted on her tiny body.  Her prognosis was poor; she would be unable to walk again, if and when she regained consciousness.  How could that even be right?  Nunnally was only six, only just starting out in life—she was just beginning to get the hang of riding her pony, and now what?  Would she even open her eyes again?  It wasn’t fair, wasn’t _right_ —everything was wrong, wrong, _wrong._

Victoire turned down the duvet of their mother’s bed, climbing between the sheets that still smelled of Marianne’s perfume.  She adjusted herself against the pillows, rubbing the bags under her bloodshot eyes; they stung with tears unshed, but she was wrung out, and had no more tears to cry.

“Lelouch?”  Her voice sounded as dry and torn as her eyes felt.

“What is it?”  Lelouch’s back was to her, the crisp shuffle of paper filling the silence between his lethargic answer.

“You should sleep.  You haven’t slept in days.”  Victoire sighed; she hadn’t slept much, either, but it was easier to dote on her twin than to take her own advice.

“I can’t.  You know that…” he murmured, turning her way as he studied a sheet of paper.  The boy’s hair was sticking out at odd angles, unbrushed and unwashed.  His complexion was paler than usual, making the dark circles beneath his eyes stark in contrast.

“The files will be there in the morning.”  Victoire spoke with no conviction; she knew Lelouch wouldn’t let it alone until he had something.

“But maybe I won’t be.  Or _you_.  Or…”  He trailed off.  They both knew what he was thinking—What if the assassin wanted to finish the job, and came after Nunnally again?  “I have to figure something out, otherwise we won’t be safe again.”

His sister sighed deeply, sinking into the sheets and hugging the pillow that smelled so much like Mother.  “I know, Lelouch.  I know…”  The girl closed her eyes against the bitter sting welling up inside, focusing on the gentle sound of her twin reading.  Minutes passed that blended into hours.  Victoire wasn’t sure if she had fallen asleep, but she could still hear the soft shuffle of pages turning back and forth, Lelouch’s exasperated sighs as he lost his focus, rubbed his eyes, and looked at the pages anew.  Until…

“Victoire!  Victoire, wake up!”

“I’m up, I’m up!”  The girl fought the heavy blankets to sit up, blearily looking around until she recognized the dark mop of hair that was her brother; Lelouch had moved his project to the absurdly large bed, his files and binders and pages spread across the unoccupied half of the bed.  She wiped at her face with her hands, trying to comprehend what was happening.  “What is it?”

The boy’s violet eyes burned with rage over the dark bags marring his face.  His lower lip stuck out in a malcontented pout not unlike the Emperor’s.  “Someone let it happen, Victoire.  It was on purpose.”

The girl’s heart skipped a beat, then thumped loudly in her ears.  “What do you mean?”  She knew exactly what Lelouch meant.  She just didn’t want to believe it.

“Look at this.”  He passed her a binder containing schedules of the security detail for that week.  A thorough guard was always maintained in Aries Palace, as well as the grounds and surrounding areas.  The royal family did not take its safety lightly.  Victoire raised an eyebrow at the document.  “Everything looks normal,” she stated.

“Right.  But look at the logs for the day Mother—the day it happened.”  Lelouch laid a handwritten sheet across the binder; it was the watch commander’s personal spreadsheet that was used to document the actual placement of personnel, should it differ from the schedule.  And boy, did it.  Victoire read and reread the changes made on The Day that completely removed all security details from select entrances and exits, and most suspiciously, from the hall in which Marianne and Nunnally had been shot.

“What is this..?” Anger was thrumming low and dangerous in Victoire’s chest.  “The times are all wrong, but—”

“But nothing.”  Lelouch cut her off abruptly, tapping the log vehemently.  “This is correct.  When we found…”  The boy swallowed, but picked his words and trudged on.  “You ran for help, but I went to check.  Nunnally was wounded, but Mother… She was… cold.”  He stopped, staring into the eternity of his hands, laced loosely in his lap.  “The… the blood.  It was dry already… There was no way that it had only just happened.”  He closed his eyes, taking another moment to suck in a breath.  “It was a set up.  And not a very good set up at that.”

Victoire glared darkly at her brother.  “So then why was Nunnally there?  Why involve her at all?  She was innocent—just a little girl!”

“I don’t know, Victoire.  But when I get my hands on the bastard who did this—”

“I’ll rip the still-beating heart from their chest,” she finished, clenching her hands into fists.  Lelouch nodded, his eyes glazed over with fever dreams of revenge.

“We’re going to need to dig deeper than this to find the culprit, but until then, I know who we can direct some of this hatred towards.”

“Daddy Dearest, huh?” Victoire _tsk_ ed, an annoyed expression furrowing her brow as she looked off to the side.  “He was always an absentee parent, so I guess it stands to reason that he’s inadequate as a spouse, too.  Or at least inadequate as any kind of protector.”

“Or just inadequate in general.  I never liked our father, but after this… This is inexcusable.”  Lelouch gathered his research, sliding the important parts into the binder.  Stacking it all in his arms, he slid from the bed with a yawn and carried it all over to a table by the door.  “Let’s get some rest.  Tomorrow, we can visit Nunnally and double check my findings.”

Victoire stifled a yawn in turn.  “You think we could get away with punching the old man in the face?”

“Probably not.”  Lelouch flipped the lights off as he made his way back to bed, climbing into the opposite side from Victoire.  It was a very big bed, with several feet separating the twins.  “But I want him to be as humiliated as possible.  He’s not going to get away with just letting Mother die like that.”

“Good.  That’s just the tip of the iceberg, though.  What we put the Emperor through will be nothing compared to what happens to the lowlife who killed Mother.”  Victoire gazed through the dark and into a matching pair of eyes from across the pillows as she rested her head.

“I swear it,” Lelouch promised, the twins nodding at each other.  They closed their eyes, sleep taking them quickly despite the new information weighing like lead in their hearts.  Though they managed to sleep peacefully, dreams of vengeance flowed through their heads like rivers of blood, the only thing that would push them through the coming days, until reckoning was upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter 1! I hope you enjoyed it, there will definitely be more to come. I may have a sporadic update schedule, but I will try to update as often as possible. There will most definitely be some chapters with explicit violence or sex, so I will include a warning note at the beginning of those chapters just in case. Until next time! Look forward to it!


	2. Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the views on this story! Sorry this has been so long in the making. For a little bit of background, I started a new job right around the time I posted chapter 1, so I’ve still been getting into the rhythm of that. I also have a toddler who is a big momma’s boy, so of course I have to prioritize him over any writing projects.  
> I started this as a favor to my husband, so rest assured that he won’t let me abandon this fic—I’ll be writing chapters slowly, but surely. Please be patient with me, and enjoy the story!  
> Thanks for reading—And happy 2nd anniversary to my husband! <3

_December 27 th, 2009_

                Jeremiah Gottwald rubbed his eyes with forefinger and thumb; he was just as exhausted as the two children attempting to rest on the other side of the door he was guarding.  He ignored the evergreen garlands and gold tinsel hanging in the halls.  It was more than inappropriate—it was a disgrace to his liege, Marianne, and an insult to the children left behind who mourned her loss.  The man blinked, making an uncomfortable realization: with her death, the Empress vi Britannia was his liege no longer.  It wouldn’t be difficult to find a new position; Jeremiah’s services were highly sought after.  It was no surprise, as he was shown to be a competent commander as well as a fierce combatant.  But even more than that, the most desirable quality he possessed was his unwavering loyalty.  The man frowned as he surveyed the dark hall, clenching and unclenching the spear in his hand.  He did not care to change allegiances, even with the death of his patron.  It was a common, if not necessary, practice among soldiers, but it left a foul taste in his mouth.  If one was truly loyal, then surely death meant little to one’s fealty?

The man shifted, stifling a yawn.  He could philosophize on his own time.  For now, he had a duty to watch over the twins vi Britannia.  A self-imposed duty, but a duty nonetheless.  When Jeremiah Gottwald swore to do a thing, he did it, without question.  After the horrors that occurred that night, after being sent away by Marianne herself, his conscience would not allow anyone else to guard over her children, especially during the night when they were sleeping and vulnerable.  It troubled the man, however, that the children did not seem to be getting any more sleep than him.  Each night he stood at the door to Marianne’s bedchamber, he could hear the muted tones of conversation.  He couldn’t hear every word that was said, but he could tell it was always about Marianne or Nunnally.  And why shouldn’t it be?  Their lives were forever changed because of what had happened to them.

It was nearing three in the morning; it had been strangely quiet in the bedroom compared to the last four or so nights.  Jeremiah simply hoped the children were asleep and having pleasant dreams, away from the nightmare of reality.  The man jumped a little when he heard Lelouch’s impassioned plea for his sister to wake up.

He looked down each end of the hall, confirming they were still quite alone in the dark palace.  Composing himself, Jeremiah returned to a state of proper stance and alertness.  He tried to focus his ears on the muted silence emanating from the halls, but could not help but to hear the twins’ conversation as it grew heated.

He heard the mention of Nunnally—Victoire’s immediate righteous fury at her involvement in the incident.  Lelouch’s sure insistence that it had been a purposeful attack, set up from the inside.  Jeremiah’s chest burned at the thought.  Who would have had the gall to plot the assassination of Marianne vi Britannia, right under the nose of Jeremiah Gottwald?  Who was it?  What did he miss?  His heart was pounding in his ears as he racked his brain for any missed possibility, but the most suspicious thing of all was that Marianne had been the one to send him away from Aries Palace.  What did it mean?  Did she know, and not tell him?  The rage in his chest was tempered by a pang of ache.  Did his liege not trust him?  Why?  The thought echoed over and over in his head.  _Why?_   _Why?!  WHY?!_

He did not have much time to be lost in his own thoughts.  Quickly, the twins’ conversation leapt from the incident to retribution.  Of course they wanted justice; so did Jeremiah.  But they were looking to the Emperor for satisfaction.  The fury and hurt that had been bubbling in his heart immediately faded, replaced by the cold bite of terror.  Marianne had been known to have an unreasonable streak, but the twins were talking insanity.  Charles zi Britannia was not known for his mercy.  In fact, Jeremiah doubted mercy was even a concept the man understood.  He had borne witness to the Emperor’s “mercy” before, and found it radical, at best.

The children were royalty, though.  Who could stop them, other than their siblings or parents?  As a former knight, he had no place becoming involved in family squabbles.  But they needed a protector.  They need someone loyal to them, looking out for their best interests, serving and advising them, before it was too late.

He could hear the twins settling, bedding down for the night.  Jeremiah let out a breath; he was glad they were finally resting.  Perhaps they might see sense after a good night’s sleep.  For Jeremiah, though, adrenaline had spiked, lighting a fire under him as he continued his lonely watch.  Regardless of the twins’ decision regarding the Emperor, they needed a knight to serve House vi Britannia.  To serve _them._

They needed Jeremiah Gottwald.

* * *

_January 3 rd, 2010_

                Lelouch reclined in a chair, gnawing at the nail of his left thumb.  His violet eyes were directed towards the large window that overlooked the horse pasture, but his vision was unfocused, his attention directed inwards.  It had been over a week, and Nunnally had yet to regain consciousness.  According to her doctors, the longer it took her to wake up, the less likely it would be she would wake at all, and the one week mark was critical.  He felt helpless; there was nothing he could do, though he longed to do something, anything, to make him feel as though he was useful.  He would scream or run through the streets naked, even renounce the throne and his titles, if only it would make little Nunnally well again.

Beside him, Victoire paced back and forth, her eyes boring holes into the brightly polished floors as her heels clicked crisply against the marble.  She clenched and unclenched her fists as she paced, the picture of unladylike behavior.  After long minutes, she stopped abruptly, her dark skirts billowing about her legs before settling.  Lelouch perked up, jarred from his thoughts as he examined his sister.  Victoire was practically shaking, her jaw clenched and her eyes screwed shut.  Silence reigned but for the ticking of a grandfather clock beside a bookcase.  Finally, she spoke.

“…It’s not fair…” Her voice was soft, barely a whisper.  The girl bit her lower lip, turning away from her brother.

A pause.  “I know.”  Lelouch glanced back out the window, watching as Invincible tried in vain to take a bite out of Sugar, who danced playfully just out of his reach.

“Lelouch, what if she never wakes up?  What if Nunnally stays asleep for the rest of her life?”  Victoire’s voice wavered as her shoulders shook, her voice rising with each syllable.  “What if—?”

“Excuse me.”  A maid meekly ducked into the study, dipping her head as she curtsied.  Hastily, the girl swiped her sleeve over her eyes and turned to face the maid, a mild expression on her face.  Similarly, Lelouch glanced at the woman and nodded, straightening slightly in his seat.

The maid curtsied once more, a look of confusion crossing her face briefly as she opened her mouth to speak.  “An—an audience was requested of House vi Britannia, as soon as possible.”  She paused, and Victoire arched a curious brow as she glanced at her twin.  Lelouch was already getting up, a frown knitting his brows together as he fixed his clothes.

“Prepare the receiving room, then.  We have nothing better to do.”

Victoire turned to the window, using the immaculate surface as a mirror to make sure she was not too disheveled.  “And?  Who is requesting this audience?”

“Um…”  Two pairs of violet eyes shot in the maid’s direction, making her even more uncomfortable.  “It’s—It’s Sir Gottwald, of the Royal Guard…”  The twins shared a brief look; Jeremiah was under employ of their house, so why would he need an audience?  Victoire shrugged as Lelouch’s frown deepened.  There was only one way to find out.

…

Lelouch reclined cross-legged in a horrendously uncomfortable ornamental chair that sat upon a dais.  He envied Victoire, who had all too quickly volunteered to stand at his side.  He sighed, shifting in the chair so he was a bit crooked, propping himself up with one arm, delicate fingers splayed against the side of his head.  A frown had carved itself onto his face as he pondered what Jeremiah wanted from them.  The restless tapping of Victoire’s fingers against the back of his chair suggested she was having the same kind of thoughts.

One of the double doors creaked open, jarring the twins from their wonderings as Jeremiah entered.  He kept his head bowed as he closed the door behind him, taking a moment to pull an envelope from his jacket before he turned to face Marianne’s children.  He paused, his reluctance flashing across his face for but a second before he regained his composure and cleared his throat, stepping into the center of the room.

“Jeremiah Gottwald.”  Lelouch eyed the man before him, his young voice echoing around the room.  “You, a member of the Royal Guard to Empress Marianne vi Britannia, now deceased.  What could you possibly want from her surviving children?”

Jeremiah flinched at the jab, clutching the envelope.  In spite of this, he turned his orange gaze to the twins, unwavering as he declared, “I want to prove my loyalty.”

“Oh?”  Lelouch arched a brow, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward in his chair.

“How do you intend to do that?” Victoire asked, skepticism ringing in her question.

“If you have something to contribute to the investigation of our mother’s assassination, I’m sorry to inform you that withholding such valuable information could be considered treason.”

“What?  No—no!”  Jeremiah realized the twins were fixated on the envelope in his hand.  He strode forward until he knelt before the dais, offering the item to the twins.  “This is something that only concerns myself.”  Curiously, Victoire came forth and plucked it from his hand.

“So what is it, then?”

“My formal resignation from the Royal Guard.”

Victoire went a shade paler, her eyes wide in her face.  She shot Lelouch a look, and found him just as shocked as she.  She unceremoniously tore the wax seal off Jeremiah’s envelope, the full rustling of the heavy pages filling the otherwise silent room.

“Why would you do such a thing, Jeremiah?” Lelouch finally asked, his voice devoid of the bitter bite he’d had when addressing the guardsman previously.

“Because, my lord, my services were employ to the former Empress.  Were I to do nothing, I would merely be reassigned.  This way, I might have the opportunity to make an offer to a liege of my own choosing.”

Lelouch ran a hand over his chin, thinking.  He flicked his eyes to Victoire, who was almost done reading through the letter.  She met his eyes once more and gave the tiniest of nods, her fingers clenched around the paper; it was the real thing, with approval from all the right people.

“Well, it appears I cannot stop you.  Go, then.”  Lelouch flapped a careless hand, leaning back in his seat with a deep frown.  Victoire glared at the letter in her hand, but otherwise showed no signs of upset.

“If I may, my lord…”

“What?  Do you need a letter of recommendation?”  Lelouch’s temper was short; Jeremiah had been in the Royal Guard protecting them and their mother practically since the start of his career.  His resignation was a bigger blow than either twin would care to admit.

“I would never be so presumptuous.  However, about the matter of my employment…”  Jeremiah took a moment to clear his throat, studying the floor carefully as he chose his words.  “I would prefer to stay with House vi Britannia.  If you would take my service, of course.”  The man bowed his head, saluting from his position kneeling on the floor.

“Jeremiah, you’re being ridiculous.”  Victoire folded the resignation letter and stuffed it back away.  “Of course you’ll continue to be a guard in our house.  You’re one of few that we trust.”  Lelouch nodded at his twin’s statement.  “What was the point of this farce of a resignation?”

“Begging your pardon, but it’s no farce.  I don’t intend to serve in the guard any longer.  My lord, if I may point out, but you have no personal champion, no knight in your service.”  Jeremiah was looking straight at Lelouch now, his gaze burning as he sought to make his point.  “Without a personal knight, the guard falls loosely around you, and you are vulnerable.  I, Jeremiah Gottwald, would pledge my life to protect you in such a role, if you would have me.”

Lelouch sat dumbly in his seat for a long minute.  A smile stretched slowly across his face as he considered.  “So it appears you are quite the presumptuous man, indeed.  However, I shall indulge you.”  The boy leaned back, propping his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepling his fingers together.  Jeremiah began to rise, a look of gratitude already on his face, but the boy cut him short.  “I do have a condition for you.  I assume it was your wish to serve the head of the vi Britannia household—to serve me.”

“Well… Yes.”  Jeremiah swallowed, wondering if his plan was going to backfire, after all.

“I will not have you as my knight.”  The man’s shoulders drooped at Lelouch’s words, but he bowed his head respectfully nonetheless.  “Instead, I would assign you… to Victoire.”

“What?  Brother—”

“Quiet.”  Lelouch was now glaring at his twin, who had spun to voice her annoyance.  “I have the final say, Victoire, and you need a guard far more than I do.”

“If you’re to assign one of your sisters a guard, shouldn’t it be Nunnally?”

Lelouch went quiet, looking to the side.  “I had thought of that, yes.  But Nunnally’s situation has changed.  Her mobility is limited, and she must always have an attendant of some kind, whether it’s a doctor, a guard, or both.  But you, Victoire… You are far more independent, and the guard as a whole can’t always keep up with that.  Don’t you agree?”

“And what about yourself, Brother?” Victoire asked through gritted teeth.  Even she knew a losing battle when faced with it.

“I’ll manage.  Your safety is more important to me at the moment.”

The girl grunted, crossing her arms and turning away from her twin.  _Let her be angry,_ Lelouch thought.  _At least I’ll have some peace of mind, if nothing else._   “So, Jeremiah?  How about it?  Will you swear to protect my sister as her sworn knight?”

Jeremiah hesitated only a moment, caught off guard by the suddenness of the question, before meeting the prince’s gaze with fiery determination.  “I would do anything for the vi Britannia family.  I would gladly lay down my life in your service, if it was required, and I shall serve whichever of you has need of me.”  The man turned to the princess, all stoic decorum.  He made a slow and deliberate bow, showing the full amount of respect commanded by a lady of her status.  “Lady Victoire, Third Princess of Britannia, I, Jeremiah Gottwald, hereby swear my service to you, until such as death relieves me of my duty.  Will you accept my fealty?”

Victoire’s expression softened, but only just, as Jeremiah made his pledge.  “How can I refuse when you’re so serious about it?  Get up, Jeremiah, I accept your pledge of fealty.”

The knight did not rise, but lifted his face with a grin of pure elation on his face.  “Thank you, my lady.  I am yours to command, if there is anything you require.”

Lelouch could hear the gears turning in his twin’s head; his heart skipped a beat as he wondered if he had made a mistake in granting Victoire such a powerful resource.  He could only imagine the trivial nonsense Victoire would ask of Jeremiah in the name of making him miserable.

“If I might…”

“Anything, my lady.  I am at your service.”

 “Teach me swordsmanship.”

Lelouch and Jeremiah both gaped at the request, the older man recovering faster as he nodded and replied with a simple, “Of course, my lady.”  Victoire seemed satisfied, a cold smile flitting across her lips.

“Victoire, why do you want to learn swordsmanship of all things?”  The girl’s twin was quite bewildered, his eyes wide as he stared at her.

“Why wouldn’t I, brother?”  She glared down at him, reminding him that she was still cross that he had forced a knight into her service.  “Clearly our family is not safe, and in the instance there is no one available to protect me, I’d like to be able to do so myself.”  She glanced at Jeremiah.  “Not that I don’t trust you, but you can never be sure of the future.”

“Of course.  I think it’s a very wise choice on your part.”  Gottwald straightened, nodding at his princess.

Lelouch grumbled, his brow furrowing as he thought it over.  Having the ability to protect oneself was valuable, indeed.  He felt a bit silly for not having thought of it himself.  “Fine, then.  Jeremiah, make sure my sister succeeds.  I will leave you to discuss your plans.”  He quickly stood, nodding at both his twin and her knight before stepping hastily from the dais.

“Lelouch, why don’t you join us?”

The boy froze at his sister’s question.  He could hear the trap in her voice, the dare, the subtle lilt that Jeremiah was unable to catch.  He was silent for a moment; his choices were poor.  Accept, and likely be thrashed during training by his twin.  Refuse, and be branded a coward and a quitter.  Through gritted teeth, he answered, “Tell me the time, and I will join you, sister.”

Jeremiah grinned a sincere smile that lit his whole face.  He was looking forward to having not one, but two students from the royal family.  “I will be sure to teach you both everything I know,” he promised.

“…Yes.  Thank you, Jeremiah.”  Lelouch managed to carry himself from the room with all his dignity, although he could not quite hide the grimace on his face when Victoire let out a dainty, tinkling laugh, the delicate sound echoing behind him a reminder of the torture that was to come.

* * *

_January 8 th, 2010_

Victoire strode through the sitting room, removing her fencing gloves as she did.  “Lelouch, we missed you at practice today,” she chided.  Jeremiah trailed her heels, sweeping a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

The prince looked up from a book.  “Yes, but I was there yesterday.  I didn’t say I would join you every day.  I think once a week will suffice.”  He shifted, trying to lessen the pressure on his bruised back.

The girl turned her full attention his way, one hand on her hip.  “But you won’t learn as quickly if you don’t participate every day.  I’ll surpass you, and won’t feel even a little bit guilty about it.”

Lelouch frowned, glancing over his book.  It was true, as Victoire was certainly a fast learner when it came to physical activities.  But she was already picking up the skill far more quickly than he, and Lelouch was unwilling to collect more bruises from her on a daily basis.  “I suppose I’ll just have to live with the knowledge that two of my sisters are better at combat than me,” he drawled, flipping to the next page.

Victoire pouted for but a moment, then shrugged.  She had enjoyed knocking Lelouch on his butt, but guessed it would probably get old if she was doing it _every_ day.  She would just have to lord her superior skill over him in different ways.

“You did well today, Victoire,” Jeremiah said, patting the girl’s shoulder, “but don’t get too complacent.  You still have a lot to learn.”

“Of course,” she sighed.  She wanted to raise more of a fuss, but her knight was just beginning to get comfortable calling her by name, so she let it go.  He might start going back to “Your Highness” and “my lady” if he thought she was unhappy with him.  Victoire hadn’t realized how much of a change it would be to have Jeremiah in their inner circle.  Sometimes his sense of decorum was unbearable, but mostly it was like having an older brother—an older brother with years more experience, instead of merely a few minutes.

“I’m going to shower, but I have a squad of guardsmen patrolling the property, plus a few men that I handpicked to guard your rooms.  You will both be safe.”  Jeremiah met each twin’s eyes his own, his determination burning through.  Victoire closed her eyes with a little half-smile, shrugging him off, as Lelouch merely watched the man with wide eyes.  The girl had spent far more time with Jeremiah over the past week, and was already quite familiar with how thorough he was with the security detail for their home.  Lelouch had been less involved, and was rather moved and impressed by the knight’s drive.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if he was wrong to assign Jeremiah to his sister, but he quickly shook the feeling off, reminding himself that the safety of his sisters was paramount.

Victoire piped up once Jeremiah had disappeared from the room.  “A shower sounds lovely, actually.  These padded practice suits get hot rather quickly, so it makes for sweaty work.”

“Indeed.  One of the many reasons I’ve decided to limit my participation.”  Lelouch had gone back to mildly skimming the book in his hands.

“Hmph.  You just hate being knocked around by a girl and we both know it.”

“But you can’t prove it, and that’s what counts.”

With a haughty sniff and a toss of her hair, Lelouch’s twin turned from him and stalked out of the room, leaving the boy alone in silence once more.  He tried to concentrate on the page, the words he was reading, trying to fill his head with the sound of his internal voice, but to no avail.  His concentration had been broken, and he once again felt deafened by the lack of presence around him—no Nunnally, no Mother.  Even though he knew in his head that the house was far from empty, the steady echo of the grandfather clock’s tick felt like a tolling reminder that his family was in shambles.  He shifted in his seat, seriously thinking about going to wait outside the bathroom for Victoire.  She might tease him, but it was better than getting stuck in the loop of thoughts that made him feel smaller than an ant.  Maybe…

“Oh, Lelouch.”

The boy’s head snapped up, his eyes wide.  He hadn’t heard the door open or close behind the blonde girl now standing there.  He relaxed slightly as he recognized her.

“Milly.  Did you and Victoire have plans today?”  The boy gently closed his book and set it on a nearby table.

“We did!  Although, I’m a bit early.  I heard from a maid that Victoire is in the shower, so I suppose I have some time…” Milly narrowed her sea-blue eyes at the dark-haired boy in front of her, tilting her head as she eyed him sidelong, a perfectly manicured finger resting on her lips as she considered.  Lelouch tried to stare back, but found himself woefully uncomfortable beneath her scrutiny.  Eventually, he lowered his eyes and coughed lightly into his fist, hoping she didn’t catch how awkward he felt.  A bright smile flashed across Milly’s face, and she bounced across the room, her hair waving behind her like a banner.  Before Lelouch could react, she had hopped up on the arm of his chair, legs crossed as she leaned over the bewildered boy.

“Uh… Milly, I don’t..?”

“You look like you could use some company.  Why don’t you tell me all about that book you were just reading?”  Milly’s friendly, open smile was incredibly disarming.  Lelouch’s initial reaction of discomfort was already fading, and he found himself grateful for the company, as bizarre as it may have been.

“Have you ever read anything by Dumas?” he found himself asking.

“I haven’t.  The name sounds French, though?”

“You’d be right.”  Lelouch allowed himself a small smile, then began to recount the tale of the Count of Monte Cristo in the way only a ten-year-old genius can.  They sat like that for several minutes, discussing their favorite characters and making literature recommendations to each other (although Milly’s suggestions were more harlequin than classical).

“Am I interrupting anything?”  An elderly man with a thick mustache stood with his hands linked behind his back, watching the pair with a grin.

“Grandpa!  Not at all, Lelouch and I were just talking.  Right, Lelouch?”  Milly gave her friend a big smile, still planted firmly on the arm of his chair.

“Er, right…”  The boy shifted, now suddenly hyperaware of how inappropriate their seating arrangements were.

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to you, Lelouch.  There are a few matters I need to discuss with you.”

The boy blinked.  Reuben Ashford was fairly informal; the fact that he had asked for a discussion meant that it must be important.  “Of course.  Did you need to speak to Victoire as well?”

“No, no…” The man stroked his mustache.  “I don’t want to trouble her.  Truth be told, I’d prefer not to burden either of you with this, but…” He shrugged.  “Circumstances being what they are, I have little choice in the matter.”

“I understand.”  Lelouch stood from his chair.  “Milly, Victoire shouldn’t be long.  I need to go—”

“Yes, yes.”  Milly flapped a careless hand at him.  “Leave poor little me all alone here.”  She flopped into the chair Lelouch had just been sitting in, kicking one leg into the air dramatically as the other draped over the chair’s arm.

Lelouch smiled; he knew Milly was secretly enjoying the opportunity to be dramatic.  “I’ll see you when you get back,” he promised.  He turned back to Reuben.  “Shall we?”

“Of course.  Lead the way.”

The old man followed the young boy through what seemed to be a maze of hallways until they finally arrived in a cozy study.  There were no windows in the interior room, and three walls were completely covered by bookshelves laden with thick, leather-bound tomes.  A solid desk sat beside the door, a high-backed chair tucked neatly underneath.  Once both were inside, Lelouch closed the door behind them.

“So, what was so important?”

“Hrm…”  The man grumbled, tugging at his moustache as he leaned against the desk.  “Well, it’s about my business…”

“Your schools?”  Lelouch plopped himself down in a plush armchair at the back of the study.

“No… My Knightmare development company.”

“…Oh.”  The boy’s small face twisted; he knew how integral his mother had been to the testing and developments of new Knightmare technology.  “I suppose… You need all her data and equipment back, then.”

“What?  Oh, no, no.  Heavens no, boy.  We have copies of the data, and all the equipment belonged to the Empress—to her successor, you, now.  No, this is nothing like that.”  Reuben again tugged at his moustache, his gaze fixed absently on the intricate carpet.  “Although… There were certain benefits that Marianne brought us.  Being backed by an Empress was no small luxury, that’s for sure.”

Lelouch’s eyebrows raised.  “You’re losing your funding.”

The old man grimaced.  “In short, yes.  We no longer have an ace to test with, and there are other influential people who are pushing to have their designs favored over mine.  With no powerful backer…”  He shrugged.  “I doubt I’ll ever give up the craft, but it’s unlikely I’ll ever see production again.”

A cold fury overtook the boy.  Reuben had been like a grandfather to him at times, and he knew how much Knightmare development meant to the man.  Besides that, he had always been impressed by the multitude of technology and engineering that went into developing a single part, how the slightest change in the interface made a pilot’s job easier, made the pilot more efficient.  How could there even be a Knightmare industry without Reuben’s creations?

“…do it…”

“What was that?  You were mumbling.”

“I’ll do it.”  The prince’s eyes were sharp and determined as he looked at Reuben, his hands clenched in his lap.

“Do… What?”

“I’ll do it.  I’ll be your ace.”

“Uh—” Reuben tried to hold back a chuckle; children were such kind-natured things, wanting to fix the biggest problems in the lives of the adults they cared for.  “I don’t think it’s so simple, my boy… We lack more than an ace.  We need influence, funding… Besides that, even if all we needed was an ace, I’m afraid that you’re far from seasoned.”

“I can do all of that!” Lelouch cried.  He bit his lip, using the pain to compose himself.  “Just because Mother is gone doesn’t mean you have to lose the support of my family.  We can draw up the necessary contracts to keep everything in order.  As for my experience as a pilot…”  He hopped from his seat, pacing back and forth in the small room.  “I’ve tried the simulator before.  I’m not bad at it.  If I was able to devote more time and practice to it, I’m _sure_ I could be useful to you.  Besides that, I have my mother’s blood in my veins.  Her talent can’t have ended with her.”

The old man sighed, trying to hide a grin with his wrinkled hand.  “So you’re determined to help me no matter what, hm?”

“Of course.”  The boy turned to face him, piercing him again with the violet determination of his stare.

“I guess I’ll have to contact my lawyers, then.  This will be a process, I’m sure you realize.  It will take time to hammer out the details.”

“Of course.  Nothing worthwhile is simple.”

“A good philosophy to have, my boy.”

Lelouch nodded.  “I think so.  Would you like to stay for lunch?  We can go over some more specifics of this business arrangement.”

Reuben smiled; with Milly and Victoire gone off to play, both of them would be alone otherwise.  “Why not?  It won’t hurt to indulge in some civilized company now and again.”

Lelouch grinned back, chiming, “I couldn’t agree more, sir.”

…

The twins had fallen into a routine every night before bed, and this night was no exception.  Ever since Marianne’s death, they had meticulously collected data—all kinds of data.  The records from the night of her assassination, her personal journals and files, as well as multitudes of notes and computer software pertaining to Knightmare development.  Most nights, the twins looked over the security data, trying to fill in the holes that didn’t make sense.  They were no closer to solving the mysteries behind their mother’s assassination than the day they discovered that the records didn’t add up.  It was no wonder they sometimes needed a break to look at less distressing things.

Lelouch had plugged an external drive into a large laptop he had set up in his mother’s bedroom.  His fingers danced over the keys, eyes flitting over each line of text.  Victoire, meanwhile, was practicing her fencing stances with a very real, very heavy, broadsword.  She was struggling with it, and so kept it sheathed just in case her body gave out.

“Victoire.”  The soft clicking of the keys halted, a pair of violet eyes watching his sister from above the screen.

“What is it brother?”  Victoire was out of breath, puffing a bit as sweat beaded on her forehead.  She finished a slow sweep of the sword from an overhead arc and relaxed her stance, resting the tip of the sword on the floor like a cane as she gave him her attention.  “Did you uncover something?”

“No… not exactly.”  Lelouch glanced down, tapping a few more keys.  “I was looking over all of Mother’s Knightmare programs.”

“Why?  I thought you were going to give all of that to Reuben and be done with it?”

“Well… The plan had changed.  Reuben will be getting copies, of course, but…”  Lelouch cleared his throat.  “We’ll be continuing Mother’s work for the Ashford Foundation.  Or at least, I will.”

Silence.  Lazily, Victoire leaned on her sword, eying her brother.  “And what prompted you to do this?”

“Several things, really.  If our house doesn’t do something, the Ashford Foundation will essentially crumble.  So, here I am, doing something.”

“I see.”  Victoire used her toe to help heft the broadsword into the air to rest on her shoulder.  “I take it this means no more sword practice for you, huh?”

Lelouch grimaced, hearing the blatant _I told you so_ in her tone.  “Maybe,” he retorted, not wanting to admit defeat.  “But in all seriousness, I have a lot to get caught up to speed on.  There was a lot that Mother never taught us, and I want to be thorough.”

“That’s okay, then.”  Lelouch looked up in surprise; no sarcastic tone from his twin, no teasing, just a simple shrug.  “You’re doing it to help Reuben out, right?  So, it’s fine.  We can’t both be best at swords, anyway, so you just become the best Knightmare pilot, instead.”  She winked at her brother as she heaved the broadsword back into its hooks on the wall.

“I’ll try my best,” Lelouch replied, still taken aback that she wasn’t giving him a hard time.

“Don’t just try.  _Do_ it.”  The girl walked to the obscenely large bed and turned down the blankets, slipping underneath.  “That’s what Jeremiah always tells me, so that’s what you should do, too.”

“Okay… I will.”

“Good.”  Victoire grinned as she settled herself under the warm covers.  The sheets rustled as she got comfortable, and Lelouch resumed his typing.  Something nagged at the corner of his mind, though.  After only a few minutes, the room fell silent as Lelouch’s fingers again ceased their movement.

“Victoire?” he called softly.

“What?”  Her voice was muffled by the heavy blankets, thick with the grumpiness of someone trying to sleep.

“Why are you letting me give up swordsmanship so easily?  Aren’t you upset?”

The girl sighed, sitting up and scratching the back of her head with an annoyed expression on her face.  “As long as you’re good at something, isn’t that enough?”

The boy’s face twisted; he wanted to say “yes” and be done with it, but… “It’s never enough unless we’re in it together, usually.”

“Okay—fine.  Look.”  She fixed her seating, sitting cross-legged and propping her chin on her hand as she rested her elbow on her knee.  “I think we’re both in agreement that something needs to be done about Father.  So, when the time comes to do it, we need to have a diverse hand of cards to play.  We both know I’m better at physical activities and combat, so I’m fine where I am.  But even if you practiced day and night, you don’t have the passion like I do to excel.  If you really want to learn Knightmares, well, I think you should do it.  Besides...”  The girl began to turn over to lay back down.  “It’s easier to _command_ from a Knightmare, isn’t it?”

Lelouch was quiet for a long time, staring at the lump of blankets that was his twin.  “…Oh.”

“Mm.  Lemme sleep now, mmkay?”

Lelouch resumed his typing, a murmured “thank you” under his breath.  A soft chuckle could be heard under the blankets in response, a strange sense of peace enveloping the room as Lelouch studied the data on the screen with renewed vigor.

* * *

_January 25, 2010_

                The long days of Nunnally’s coma had turned into weeks.  Hope that the little girl would wake from her slumber was fading, but the twins were doing their best to distract themselves.  Victoire had thrown all her energy into fencing, spending every waking moment lifting weights, practicing her stances, her hand-to-hand, and stretching to improve her flexibility.  Each night, she fell into bed, too physically drained to dwell on looming shadows.  Lelouch, too, had found escape in the Ashford Foundation.  Victoire was unsure of the details, but she knew her brother now owned a stake in the company and was more directly involved with their funding.  When not discussing the logistics of the business with Reuben Ashford, the boy spent many hours in a simulator.  It was far from his first time in one, but it was the first time he had ever approached it seriously.  Each day, he found some new quirk or hiccup he had to accommodate, and each night he burnt the midnight oil trying to find some way to overcome the issue.  Already in this short time, he had developed programs to make a pilot’s experience smoother, and had proposed a few ideas to old Reuben about modifications they could make to the machines.  Of course, everything was still in engineering, and would take quite a while until making it to the developmental testing stage.  Still, it was something he had to look forward to.

Both twins were so focused on their projects, on distracting themselves from painful realities, that they had stopped waiting by the phone, hoping to hear news of their sister’s recovery.  Therefore, the phone call from the hospital was quite unexpected.

They dropped everything—Victoire practically stripped her practice clothes off while running towards the door; Lelouch fled the simulator in the middle of a test, making the data unusable.  They begged the chauffeur to drive faster, to hurry.  Their little sister was waiting for them!

“Nunnally!” both twins cried, fighting their way through the door to be the first at her side.  Silent, trying to hide his grin in his stoic demeanor, Jeremiah closed the door behind them to stand guard in the hall.

“B-brother?  Sis..ter?  Is that… Is that you..?”  The girl’s voice was cracking, dry from disuse.  Sitting up in bed, she reached with both hands, grasping in front of her.

Victoire felt her heart speed up; something wasn’t right.  Still, she smiled.  Here was Nunnally, awake.  She gripped the little girl’s left hand tightly and knelt beside her on the bed.  Lelouch, too, clasped both his hands around his younger sister’s as he sat on her other side.

“Yes, Nunnally.  It’s us.”  Lelouch had a small smile on his face, eyes dewy with held-back tears.

“I’m so happy you came!”  A grin brought a little light to the girl’s face, even as tears leaked from her closed eyes and down her cheeks.

“How are you feeling, Nunnally?”  Victoire brushed back a curl of hair from her sister’s face.  “You were asleep for a whole month…”

Nunnally was quiet, her mouth twisting as her grip tightened on her sibling’s hands.  “…I wish I was still asleep,” she whispered, more tears streaming down her face.

“Nunnally, no!  No…”  Victoire wiped the tears away with gentle fingers.  “Don’t say such a thing, right after you’ve come back to us!  It’s alright.”  She cupped her sister’s face, tilting her head towards her.  “See?”

“No, I can’t!  I can’t see!”  Nunnally pulled her hands away and swatted Victoire back, hiding her face as her shoulders shook with sobs.  “My legs don’t work!  I can’t see anything!  I’m broken, and I just want to go back to sleep!  Where’s Mommy?!  I want Mommy!”

Victoire stared helplessly; she knew something was wrong, but this?  They hadn’t the time or care to speak with a doctor on the way in, so to learn of her condition like this…

“Nunnally.”  Lelouch’s voice cracked; he bit his lip, trying to get a hold of himself.  “It’s…  Mom is… She…”  He couldn’t bring himself to force the words out, so instead he forced a smile, trying to sound optimistic as he said, “We don’t want you to stay asleep, Nunnally.  It doesn’t matter if your legs don’t work, or you can’t see.  Your big brother and sister will help you.  Right?”  He looked to Victoire desperately.

“Of course.”  She didn’t even have to think; the response was automatic.  “Nunnally, we will always protect you.  If you can’t see, then we’ll describe everything to you so it’s just as good!”

“And if you can’t walk, then I’ll carry you on my back,” Lelouch promised.

Nunnally sniffled, scrubbing her face with the backs of her hands.  “R-really..?” she whimpered.

“Of course,” the twins vowed, as serious as they had been about anything.

“…What about Mommy?” the girl asked softly.

To this, the twins froze.  They didn’t know what to say, how to break the truth gently, or if they could tell Nunnally without breaking her.

“Mom is… That is, she—”

“She protected you,” Victoire cut in, voice tight.  The two exchanged a glance; they were reasonably sure that was not the truth.  However, until it could be disproven, it was the best truth they had to offer.  “She tried to protect you, Nunnally… But, she—”

“Mommy’s gone..?”  Nunnally’s voice was but a choked whisper.

“No.  She just went to Heaven,” Lelouch added gently.  “But if she hadn’t gone to Heaven, then you wouldn’t be here, Nunnally.  So, please, don’t ever say that you want to go back to sleep.”

All three siblings were crying now, curled up on Nunnally’s hospital bed as they held each other.  For Lelouch and Victoire, this was worse than the first night after their mother’s death, curled up crying in her abandoned bedroom.  Still, they couldn’t even begin to imagine how bad it was for little Nunnally.

The minutes ticked by, the heavy weight of their shared sadness keeping them from speaking.  Tears came and went, sometimes silently, sometimes not.  But they were all three together again, and the twins, at least, were grateful.

They were unsure how long they stayed huddled together like that, but it felt like at least an hour when they heard Jeremiah’s clear, crisp tones on the other side of the door.  Victoire had been around him long enough to hear the annoyance in his voice, despite his polite tone.  Lelouch, too, had begun paying attention to the conversation on the other side of the door.  Brow furrowed, he looked at his twin; she answered with a confused frown.

“That sounds like Mr. Jeremiah…” Nunnally chimed, her voice soft as she sensed her siblings on edge.

“It is,” Victoire confirmed.

“Why is Mr. Jeremiah here?”

“Well—” Lelouch was cut off by what sounded like a threat; he frowned.  “Wait here,” he told his sisters, getting up and reaching for the door.

…

There was a mix of emotions bottled up in Jeremiah Gottwald’s chest.  The reunion of all three vi Britannia siblings warmed his heart, enveloping him with a gentle feeling.  On the other hand, a heavy sadness weighed on his shoulders; a nurse had quietly given him details of the girl’s condition.  Suffice it to say that she would not be as her former self, and it would be a bitter pill to swallow for the twins.  As he stood in front of the hospital door, royal guards to either side of him, he had one thought swirling around in his head: _No one will interrupt these children.  Not while I, Jeremiah Gottwald, am still breathing._

Jeremiah didn’t realize he would have to put that vow to the test.

The hasty shuffle of the royal guard trying to stand straighter and with properly held arms got his attention.  Of course, he never had to worry about his own posture, and instead zeroed in on the cause of the disturbance.  His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw who was approaching them.  Surely there was a good reason for this.  The man offered a salute to the imposing silhouette of the Knight of One.

“Sir Bismarck.  To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

The Knight of One stopped before him, his white and gold cloak falling to one side as he propped his hand on his hip.  “Unfortunately, this is not a visit of pleasure.  I have a message from the emperor himself, for all three children in that room.”

“I see.”  Jeremiah frowned deeply; a message from the emperor was unlikely to bear any good news.  It was best to let them have their time together before introducing any new information.

“My orders are to deliver the message as soon as possible.  Let me pass.”  Bismarck’s level blue eyes pierced into Jeremiah’s orange ones; he was a man who expected to be obeyed when he gave an order.

“I cannot,” Jeremiah replied simply.  Bismarck frowned, more lines appearing around his mouth.

“What?”

“I cannot let you pass.”  Jeremiah gripped his weapon tightly.  “The twins have just spoken with their sister for the first time in over a month.  I will not allow anyone to interrupt.”

“Tch.”  The knight gritted his teeth as he measured up the young man before him; Jeremiah was at ease, but his muscles were coiled to make a move.  “I will not ask again: _Stand aside._ ”

“No.”

Something snapped in the Knight of One.  How dare this _boy_ defy him?!  “Stand aside, or be skewered in the name of the emperor!”

“Even if it costs my life, I will not allow you past this door!”

“Stubborn fool!  Don’t waste your life on the selfishness of some children!”  Bismarck’s eyes were wide with fury as he tossed his cape from his shoulders, readying his stance for a fight.

“As a knight, I cannot condone what you have said about my liege!”  Jeremiah switched his stance, pulling his spear into a combat-ready position, aiming straight at Bismarck.

“Liege?  You damn—”

Both men froze as the door behind Jeremiah opened, a cautious pair of violet eyes peering out at them.  “What’s going on out here?” Lelouch demanded.

“Nothing.  Please, go back inside and allow me to handle this nuisance.”

“Nuisan—?!  I am here at behest of Emperor Charles zi Britannia!”  A blood vessel on Bismarck’s forehead looked like it was getting ready to burst.

Lelouch frowned; as much as he wanted to let Jeremiah have a go at the Knight of One, he knew it was foolish.  He sighed.  “It’s okay Jeremiah.  Thank you for trying.”

“But—My lord..!”  Jeremiah deflated quickly, knowing that Lelouch could be even more stubborn than his sister when he put his mind to it.

The boy held up a slim hand and turned his attention to Bismarck.  “Anything you have to say should be said in front of all of us,” he insisted.

Bismarck nodded.  “Of course.”  He strode forward, eyeing Gottwald as he brushed by him.  Jeremiah was not happy, his brow furrowed as he ground his teeth together.  Was this all he could do as a knight?  Argue, and be overruled?  This couldn’t be the extent of his power… Defeated, he closed the hospital room door, standing with his arms crossed as he glared at Bismarck’s back.

“What’s going on?” Nunnally asked, worry painting itself over her face even as her eyes remained closed.

“It’s alright,” Victoire assured her, patting her hand.  “Sir Bismarck is visiting us.”  Despite the girl’s gentle tone, she had fixed sharp eyes on the seasoned knight.  The tension in room didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh… Okay.  Hi, Mr. Bismarck,” Nunnally chimed timidly.

Bismarck looked over the children.  Just for a moment, his expression softened, but he quickly reverted to his usual stoicism.  “Let me begin by giving my condolences about your mother.  She was an excellent knight, and her life was cut short too soon.”  The twins glared at him; they knew this was more than a courtesy visit, and didn’t appreciate his use of their mother to sugarcoat the situation.  “Furthermore, I’m glad to see Nunnally awake.  I’m not the only one.  In fact, much thought has already been put into how to handle Nunnally’s situation.”

“What do you mean ‘handle her situation’?” Lelouch snapped.  “She’s just woken up!  She needs time to recover, and—”

“I’m glad we both agree on this.”  Bismarck interrupted, his tone stern, daring Lelouch to do it again.  “A bargain has been made about where she is to recover, and her fate once she has.  As you know, it is nearly impossible for a cripple to make a decent life once they reach adulthood…”  Bismarck pretended not to hear Victoire’s low growl or see the way she edged protectively in front of her sister.  “But a marriage has been arranged for her in Japan.”

A shocked silence fell over the room.  Victoire and Lelouch glanced at each other.  Nunnally was too young to be married!  Victoire squeezed her sister’s hand as Lelouch raised his voice.

“What marriage?  I’m the head of the vi Britannia branch of the royal family, and I’ve never heard of anything like this!  I refuse to allow it.”  He glared daggers at Bismarck, who remained unfazed.

“True, you are the head… in name only.  You are but a boy, and the law requires a regent for you.  Just because your mother did not name one in her will does not make you exempt.”

“So, then… Father..?” Victoire hissed, trying to comfort Nunnally as she shook.

“The Emperor hardly has time for such trivial matters.  The second prince, Schneizel, took an immediate interest and relieved the burden from your father.”

“Big brother Sneezy..?” Nunnally whimpered, still unsure of what was going on.

“NO!  I don’t allow it!” Lelouch cried, swiping his hand across the air.  “My little sister is not getting married!”

Bismarck raised a skeptical eyebrow.  “Scream all you want, little prince, but the arrangements have already been made.  Now, it was assumed that you would accompany your sister, but you are free to stay here and protest if you choose.”  The man turned towards the door, eyeing Lelouch over his shoulder.  “However, I would suggest leaving with her instead of waiting to be finished off in Britannia.  Maybe you can find a way out of the marriage on the other side, hm?”

Even Jeremiah was left stunned as the intimidating knight slipped out of the hospital room.  They all glanced at each other; what could they even do in this situation?

* * *

_February 1, 2010_

                “I can’t believe this is happening,” Victoire whispered, her head bowed as various bags and personal effects were tossed into the plane behind them.

“I know,” Lelouch whispered back, squeezing Nunnally’s shoulder.  Their friends and siblings gathered around them, some calm and collected, others with tears streaming down their faces.

“Lelouch, Victoire, Nunnally…” Odysseus had tear trails down his cheeks, his cravat hopelessly stained with the manifestation of his sadness.  He leaned down to envelop all three in a tight hug.  “I promise, I will find out why this happened.”  His voice was low, so only they could hear, and full of rage and determination.  Odysseus had no idea how Schneizel had managed to become regent for the children; he had never seen a proposal or anything of the like.  If he’d been given the opportunity, he would have liked to be their regent… but he would have to assist them in other ways now.  Reluctantly, he released his siblings and stepped back.

Clovis’s eyes shone bright with tears; one could say he was almost sparkling.  “I always enjoyed our time together Lelouch, Victoire, Nunnally.”  He sounded a bit choked for how beautiful he appeared while crying.  “There could never be a replacement for you… Please, write often, okay?”

“We will,” Victoire promised.  Clovis nodded and tossed something to Lelouch, who snatched it out of the air.

“Lelouch, it’s a promise for the next time we meet, okay?”

Lelouch looked at what was in his hand: a black king piece from the chess set he and Clovis had so worn out.  Tears started to form in the boy’s eyes.  He gripped the token tightly and said, “It’s a promise.”

Milly was hiding close behind the third prince, and took the quickest opportunity to jump in and hug Victoire.  “You have to come home soon, okay?  It’s going to be too stuffy without you around!”

“That’s my line,” Victoire countered through a watery grin.  She hugged the girl fiercely once more, having no words for how it felt to be separated from her best friend.

After a while, all the bags were loaded, all the goodbyes were said, and all that was left to do was board the plane that would take them to their new lives in Japan… for better or for worse.  The twins did not look back for fear of losing their resolve, but their friends and family could not look away from the plane leaving its bay, taxiing down the runway, and taking off into the sky.  Nothing about this was right, but there was nothing to be done… yet.  While the twins did their part in Japan, neither Clovis nor Odysseus planned to sit idle.  There was a plot to unravel, and siblings to bring home.  Only time would tell how successful they would be… or the events that would unfold once the vi Britannia family arrived in Japan.  



End file.
